


in the shadow of every headlight

by no_detective



Category: Fast and the Furious Series, Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: A few references to Justice League members, Cover Art, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, car flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22640305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_detective/pseuds/no_detective
Summary: Diana stops at an intersection and gets a glimpse of another road.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 29





	in the shadow of every headlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skuldchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuldchan/gifts).



> Title from _Drive_ \- Black Coffee & David Guetta feat. Delilah Montagu. Spoilers, I guess, for the F9: The Fast Saga trailer? 
> 
> Many thanks to [isagel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isagel/pseuds/Isagel) and [bonibaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru/pseuds/bonibaru) for the quick beta. All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Also, THANK YOU GIRLMARAUDERS for this stunning cover art!!! (Full disclosure: I won a bid in the Equality Auction and hoped for something beautiful and wistful, but this exceeded my expectations by a mile ♥)

* * *

Diana pulls out of the parking lot of the restaurant where she stopped for lunch and heads back toward the highway. The car purrs along the curves of the road, and she smiles a little at the pleasure of driving the latest gift from Bruce. It handles like a dream; she can’t wait to get on the Autobahn and see how fast it will go. It’s not that she can’t afford her own transportation, but... he just seems so deeply invested in customizing vehicles for her. Bruce is a complicated guy, so if this expression of friendship provides him with some sort of emotional outlet, she can certainly allow it. 

And if she never uses the cars he’s optimized (and probably laced with trackers) on the trips he doesn’t know about, then that’s her prerogative.

This one is a new Lotus Evora GT, light and sleek, in bespoke pearl exterior that makes it look like it’s been carved out of moonlight. Last month she mentioned to Bruce she’d be heading to Berlin in February to follow up on a completed mission, with a few stops on the way and back to check on some new friends. Two weeks later, she received a key and the address of the pickup location. He’d also sent her an encrypted video of himself rambling about the specs. It’s adorable enough that she saved it to her phone: his eyes positively twinkle when he describes the car’s features (“I’ve noticed you like that analog feel, so I hope you’ll like this one”) and his own adjustments. Something about keeping the impeccable balance and the Toyota engine because, well, common sense, and how she can outrun pretty much anything in a vehicle that’s barely street-legal in most countries (he’s probably tampered with the speed too - she’ll have to check), but if she needs to dodge cameras there’s now camouflage tech built in, and something about holographic projector cells, and why placing those strategically has necessitated slight changes to its shape at fender, quarter panel, and rear wing, but he assures her he’d personally tested its aerodynamic properties post-modification and the performance remains excellent, in fact he’s made some minor improvements to the body design… She smiles again. No billionaire should look so wistful while telling her to enjoy Germany’s lack of speed limit.

Diana stops at a red light and rolls down her window. It’s a sunny day, the air crisp and fresh but warm for the time of year. The intersection is quiet except for the hum of A4 traffic ahead; once she’s back on the highway, the German border will be minutes away. 

A black Lexus with American plates slowly pulls up to her left. Her instincts are quiet, but she casts a sideways glance at the driver just in case; then looks again. A handsome face with stunning cheekbones and a sensual mouth, a shock of messy dark hair, and a casually arranged frame that seems almost too tall and broad-shouldered for the interior of a sports car. He's half-turned towards her, one arm slung around the back of the passenger seat, and… he’s not looking at Diana. Instead, he’s looking over her vehicle with an expression that suggests he might know a thing or two about what he’s seeing. His eyes narrow as they focus on the barely visible modifications to its body.

There are people who know cars, and then there are people who _know_ cars. He is certainly in the latter category.

His gaze finally meets hers and Diana watches him blink in surprise. Have they met before? She doesn't think so, but there's a flash of recognition, then confusion on his face, before his eyes settle on appreciative interest. She's ready to be disappointed by another man's typical reaction to a woman behind the wheel, but then he smiles, and - it’s an impressed grin, friendly and easy and filled with genuine respect. There's a bit of melancholy in it, but not a trace of challenge or condescension. (Arthur would describe this as "real recognize real" and, she thinks, he would be right.)

The moment is apparently surprising enough that Diana hears herself say: “Nice ride.” 

The man grins wider. “Pretty sure that should be my line. Your car looks… really special.” His voice is smooth, and he savors the last two words, as if the softness of vowels could hide the sharp intelligence behind his assessment, not to mention his curiosity. 

“It does what I need it to,” Diana says and wonders when exactly she’d decided to flirt with this stranger at a red light.

His eyebrows go up a fraction. “I know better than to ask what that might entail.” 

“Wise choice,” she agrees. 

He chuckles to himself a little and reaches down. Diana feels an automatic ping of alertness, but there’s a decidedly non-threatening sound of crinkling plastic, and… The man pops a chip into his mouth and tilts the bag at her in a silent offer, and she almost laughs.

_(“I can’t believe I have to bring this up again,” whined Barry at their last gathering, “but none of you understand the importance of snacks at team meetings. And no, Bruce, _water_ doesn’t count. In fact, easy rule: if it doesn’t come in a crinkly bag, it’s not a proper snack. Why do you think the expression goes, _All that AND a bag of chips? _I mean, seriously…”)_

She tamps down the memory and shakes her head at the man, smiling politely. 

“Well, in case you ever get tired of your ride, or if you just wanna talk shop…” the man puts down the bag and a moment later extends his arm out the window, palm up: there’s a card between his middle and forefinger. 

Diana takes it. Matte stock, simple black print on grey background, orange-painted edges. _Han Lue_ , no listed occupation, just a number. 

“Thanks, but... perhaps in another lifetime,” she says with a vague sense of regret. 

“Another lifetime works,” Han replies with another easy grin, as if he too is used to having more than one, and adds: “It’s a date,” before he puts his car in gear. She didn’t notice when the light turned green.

He gives her a small hat-tip wave before he drives off. The Lexus turns left, to the exit that loops southbound; Diana continues straight and returns to the A4. 

Maybe he’s heading to Switzerland. Or Monaco. Diana doesn’t care for gambling, but he looks like he’d be good company in a casino. He also looks like he’d be fun on the road, both in a race and… well.

She tucks away the card into the glove box. Just in case another lifetime happens to be around the corner.

* * *


End file.
